Page 13 of Save You
Chapter 6
Southampton, England, 1972
Rosalie
It’s official! I look like a beached whale waddling along on two short legs, complete with kankles! Everything aches, everything’s swollen, and I am fed up with my little lodger refusing to get out, even though, according to my last period, I’m past due. Sadie’s lost all patience with me and has practically forced me into staying sat down instead of helping her today. I am more than aware that my moaning is driving her mad, but I can’t help it, and, in my mood, I no longer care. If I had an ‘eject’ button on me, I’d be hitting it so hard, I’d probably break my finger on it.
The only argument Sadie had given that I would listen to, was that Mrs Topple needed company today, and she couldn’t possibly afford the time. I’m not stupid; I knew this was just an excuse to get me away from her, so I tutted, but eventually conceded before taking up permanent residence inside of the worn armchair by the window.
Mrs Topple still calls me Mary and consistently asks me questions about how Tom and I had met. I had engaged with it at first, making up elaborate and wildly romantic stories to indulge her, but at this point in my long pregnancy, I no longer have the enthusiasm for it. Especially when it’s all lies, and I end up falling for it as much as she does, only to feel horribly sad about it afterwards.
“And how is he between the sheets?” she asks me today; a new question, I’ll give her that. The shock of her asking such a thing, and with a devious grin on her face, makes me drop my spoon into my teacup with a noisy clatter.
“Given that mischievous grin of his, I’d say he was pretty good!” The saucy old girl winks at me.
“Er…?”
I don’t have the faintest idea of how to answer that question. For starters, it’s not something you talk about, especially with eighty-five-year-old ladies who refer to you as a completely different person entirely. Secondly, I’ve only known sex to be a brutal, painful affair that never made me the least bit excited for it.
“My Percy was rather inadequate,” she says, nodding her head in thanks to me when I hand her a new cup of tea. My mouth is still agape over the conversation she appears to be delving further into, which is very much one-sided I might add. “But he got points for trying.”
At last, I have to let out the giggle that is sitting firmly inside of my mouth. I can honestly say I couldn’t have made up such a thing about an old lady discussing her dead husband’s sexual inadequacies.
She now looks at me with an expression that seems to suggest she’s now waiting for me to elaborate on my experiences of a non-existent love life with my fake husband. However, the thudding of footsteps on the stairway, followed by a loud commotion from the hallway just next door to us, saves me from such an awkward response. Instead, we both turn our attentions toward the new mystery happening right outside our door.
Raised voices begin hollering back and forth at one another, prompting Mrs Topple and me to look at each other with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. We then stare back at the door, not even pretending to not be eavesdropping on the ensuing argument between a woman and a man; the man sounding very much like Tom.
“We’ve been seeing each other for nearly a year, Thomas Taylor, and now you tell me you’re married? And with a baby on the way?” The female screeches like a woman possessed, sounding completely irrational and likely to do something crazy.
“I didn’t think it would be a problem, darlin’, you’re married too!” he shouts back with a gob smacked laugh at the end, winning no favors from the now growling woman. “You knew what this was, like it’s always been between you and me!”
“And what’s that? A quick, weekly fuck between the sheets?”
“I think you get more than a quick-”
His voice trails off as the sound of glass shattering against the wall behind us silences them both. “Jesus, fucking Christ, Elspeth!”
“You’re an arsehole, Tom!” she practically roars, and it feels like the entire house just shook a little. “Where is the little wifey then? Is she here?”
“That’s none of your concern!”
The formality of his words, together with the tone of his voice, tells me he is beginning to turn hostile, and I know he’s in one of those rare moods that say, ‘Don’t push me or I’ll explode!’ I think I’ve only seen it two occasions before – the first, when he found out about Carl’s treatment of me, and the other, when Sadie’s date returned to the house without her. She had gone off to a party and left the poor boy to come back to the house without her. He then had to explain to her big brother that he had lost her, which, as you can imagine, did not go down well with Tom. They never went out again and Sadie was in the doghouse for nearly a month.
“I want to see her!” the woman snaps with determination. “I want to see the girl who has managed to tame Thomas Taylor into marriage and family. Does she know you still sleep around with married women?”
“I’m warning you, Elspeth!”
He sounds like he’s using his last ounce of strength not to lose it with whoever she is.
“Are you ok, dear?” Mrs Topple places her frail hand on top of mine as she looks at me empathetically. “My Percy played away a few times, but it’s not nice to have it rubbed in your face!”
I blush, sip my tea to steady my nerves, then smile back with extreme embarrassment.
“I’m ok. It’s not like I can meet his needs right now.” My reply is not entirely deceitful. Besides, she doesn’t need to know it’s because we’re not actually a real couple. The humiliation is real enough, though, particularly as Elspeth sounds a little unhinged and is likely to lose her sanity if she sees that I am here, just behind that door.
“Who’s that?” the woman asks calmly but with a hint of madness to her tone of voice. “I heard voices, is she in here?”
Oh, God!